


And the Lakes Have Alligators

by Crysania



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, F/M, I know nothing about canoes ok?, the lakes don't have alligators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 05:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19311127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crysania/pseuds/Crysania
Summary: Summer camp would have been perfect. If only it weren't for Ben Solo. When he returns as a counselor years later, their antagonism picks up right where it left off. She hates him. She really does. Until she doesn't...





	And the Lakes Have Alligators

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks as always to the ladies of the Reylo Fic Recs chat group for all the sprints and support!

Their rivalry goes as far back as she can remember, really. It started when they’d been at the camp at the same time. Rey had been all of eight years old, knobby-kneed with eyes as big as saucers at all the _green_ and the _lake_ and there were _horses_. It had been her favorite three weeks in her entire young life.

Or at least, it _had_ been until she’d met 14-year-old Ben. Grumpy and angry at the world, but mostly angry at the parents who had dumped him off at his uncle’s camp for the summer ( _the entire_ summer _, Rey, you’re only here for a couple weeks_ ). He’d tried to undermine every bit of fun at the camp.

But the thing she really couldn’t forgive was the time he called her a scavenger and worse, a _charity case_. She’d been taking food and hiding it beneath her bed as she was wont to do. A few granola bars, a can of soup she’d found in the employee’s lounge. Ben had caught her and turned her over to his uncle.

Luke had ended up having to talk to her about it. And then he’d had a discussion with her foster father on it as well. Unkar Plutt was no one’s idea of a foster parent, that was for sure, and she’d gotten hell for it all when he’d finally picked her up. _Vacation’s over, kid, back to work_.

The following year, she’d been dumped there for the entire summer. She’s still not sure _how_ , but Plutt seemed happy about it. She remembers hearing him crowing about it on the phone to someone the night before he left her there. He’d still get his money for her and even better, the whole thing cost him not one red cent. Freedom from dealing with her _and_ money. It was a dream come true for the old bastard.

And she’s gone there every summer since.

First as a camper.

And then as a counselor, the summer after her high school graduation. She can’t seem to stay away and it’s become the perfect summer job for her. She loves the idyllic camp, loves the friends she’s made there. Really far more family than she’s ever had in her life. And it gives her a place to go between school years that doesn’t involve begging Plutt to stay with him and work at his junk shop.

She’s washed her hands of him, gone the moment her diploma hit her hand. Luke Skywalker has made sure she’ll never need the likes of Plutt again.

Her first year as a counselor had been rife with problems. She and Ben butted heads more and more the older she got. He was still stubborn, still grumpy. He’d taken to wearing his hair long, instead of the ridiculous bowl-cut his mother had inflicted on him for years. He’d gotten taller, but no less awkward. And he seemed to make it his mission in life to wreak havoc for her.

But her second year, _oh_ her second year. That one had been unexpectedly idyllic. Sometime between one year and the next, Ben had disappeared. She’d spent a peaceful summer hiking, playing archery, and got to assist with the horses, certainly her favorite thing. Especially as the new horsewoman, Rose, became one of her best friends.

* * *

She asked Luke once what happened to Ben. She hadn’t ever seen them as particularly close, and thought their relationship perhaps even more cantankerous than hers with Ben, but he was still his uncle. When he spoke of Ben, there was a careworn look to his face, the wrinkle between his brows more prominent. Ben had apparently had some sort of falling out with his family that she couldn’t even begin to understand. And that was that. She’d never have to see him again.

And she hadn’t. For two more years after that, camp had been her peaceful getaway from the stress of college. And when she returned this year, now 22 and getting ready to head to graduate school, she expects yet another wonderful year with her friends. Completely stress-free this time. She’s already gotten into the university she wants for mechanical engineering and so the summer will be as peaceful as they come.

Or…

Well…

She _thought_ it would be peaceful. She _thought_ she’d never have to see Ben Solo again.

She thought wrong.

She’s hugging Rose and they’re talking excitedly when he walks into the room, and Rey lets out a little squeak of surprise. He’s hard to miss, really. He’d gotten _huge_ over the years. There are muscles there under his shirt. She can see the fabric strain against them when he stretches. Tall, broad, and yet, as he takes a few further steps into the room, he still carries himself with all the grace of an awkward teenager.

“Who’s that?” Rose whispers when she sees Rey watching him.

Rey quickly looks away. “No one,” she says quickly.

“Oh come on, you don’t stare at someone like that if he’s _no one_.” Rose is staring at him, and Rey wants to yank her away before he notices. “Oh God!” Rose shouts. “That’s _Ben_ isn’t it? _The_ Ben. From all your years at camp. The one you talk about all the time?”

“I do not…”

“No?” Rose asks. “I know more about Ben than I do anyone else at this camp.”

“He was a big part of camp…” She lets her voice trail off. She supposes he was, really. The most irritating part to be sure. It’s not like she could talk about camp without talking about the almost malicious pranks they’d started to pull on each other. There weren’t many who stayed at camp all summer. And so their rivalry became infamous, rumors passed down from one year’s campers to the next.

The rumors still persisted, even though the last time she’d seen Ben had been her first year as a counselor. He’d been gone by the next year.

“Sure,” Rose mutters. “You never told me he was so… _big_.” She says the last with a little smirk.

“He wasn’t,” Rey mutters. He’d been tall, sure. She still remembers the year she came to camp and found he’d shot up nearly a foot. He was over six feet tall by the time he’d aged out of the camp. But he’d been a beanpole, tall and waif thin. There had been enough jokes about his not eating that once, just _once_ , she’d worried about him and slipped him a few of the granola bars she still hoarded.

It had been the last time she tried to do anything nice for him.

He had sneered at her and tossed them back in her face before stalking off.

She didn’t like Ben.

He didn’t like her.

It was really that simple.

“Oh,” Rose says, grabbing Rey by the arm. “He’s headed this way.”

“Let’s leave.”

“You have to face him sometime.”

“I’d really rather not.” She’s older now and there’s a part of her that feels a little embarrassed over everything they’d said and done to each other. She’s facing down graduate school the next year and engineers do _not_ act the way she and Ben do.

She starts to turn away, linking her arm through Rose’s as she turns on her heel. But the other woman doesn’t budge an inch. For such a tiny thing, she sure does know how to plant her feet and refuse to move. _Stubborn woman_.

“Rey,” she hears Ben say and turns back to him.

“Ben.” She attempts to hit a note of nonchalance. Who is he to her really? She tries not to stare at the muscles of his chest as she raises her chin and meets his eyes. Fuck, he really could be the hero gracing the cover of a romance novel with all that thick, black hair and those intense eyes and all those fucking _muscles_. “Didn’t see you there.”

He nods, glances down to where her arm is still linked with Rose’s. “New girlfriend?” She’s not sure if there’s a sneer behind the words or honest curiosity. She’s never been able to tell _what_ Ben is thinking.

Rose snorts. “You _wish_.” And she releases Rey’s  arm. “I think I see Finn. Gotta go.” Rey watches her rush off into the crowd with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Just before Rose disappears into the throng, she turns back to her and mouths _we’ll talk later_.

Traitor.

“Did you just call her a traitor?” Now he _does_ sound amused.

“Fuck. Look, what do you want? Why are you even here?” She crosses her arms over her chest as she talks to him. Her still ridiculously small chest. She’s pretty sure his is bigger, which makes her strangely self-conscious about the whole thing.

He cringes at that and moves to cross his arms over his chest. And here they go again. The typical Rey/Ben stand-off that they were known for. “It’s your lucky day, Jackson. I’m a counselor here again.” He leans a little close and she _almost_ takes a step back. “For the _entire_ summer.”

She groans. “Look, just stay out of my way.” He starts to speak and she holds up a hand. “And I’ll stay out of yours.”

“Fine,” he mutters.

She holds out her hand and is surprised that he actually takes it after a moment of hesitation. His hand is warm. Warm and soft, not hands that are used to doing manual work. Probably wears gloves when he works out (because he _must_ work out to get muscles like that). She feels the hair on the back of her neck stand up for just a moment before she pulls her hand out of his grip.

He smiles.

The fucker actually smiles.

“Deal,” she says and turns on her heel, finally managing to escape his oppressive overly –large presence.

* * *

He doesn’t stay out of her way, of course. That would have been far too simple. She learns, through the grapevine, that he’s been _forced_ to spend time at camp. It’s either community service ( _he killed a man_ , she hears one person whisper, _accidental of course_ ) or desperation ( _he’d be homeless_ , she hears someone else postulate, _and what a sad thing that would be_ ).

The first is ridiculous at best, though there’s a new set to his shoulders, a new look in his eyes, that says he’s _seen_ things. He looks haggard. Oh, he’s as well-groomed as always. Hair perfectly brushed to hide his ridiculously large ears, the goatee he’d grown since the last time she’d seen him neatly trimmed, clothes looking like they were made for nothing better than to grace his body. But there’s something in the dark circles under his eyes, the constant downturn to his generous lips that make her think that life has not treated Ben Solo kindly.

But still, she’s pretty sure he didn’t murder someone.

She hopes.

“It wasn’t murder,” he says to her one afternoon. He’s at the horse barn. She has no bloody clue _why_ he’s there, but he pops up on the second week of camp.

“Don’t _do_ that,” she mutters.

“Do what?” He follows her as she steps into the cooler confines of the barn. It’s feeding time for the horses. She’ll turn them out to pasture to let them graze and get a little free running time between campers. She’s often heard complaints that the horses should have more freedom, are neglected in some way. She’d had to chase off more than one irritating PETA do-gooder who thought sneaking into their camp was a good idea.

“Exist?” she offers up, turning away from him. “What do you want, anyway?”

“Luke wanted me to help out.”

“Hmph.”

“He _did_.”

“And he knows _I_ am here?”

He shrugs at that, but continues to follow her, helping to turn the horses out one at a time. The truth about their horses are that they have nowhere else to go. Most are older horses, quiet and docile. They had been ultimately destined for the slaughterhouse before Luke Skywalker stepped in to save them. Here they get to be ridden by sweet children and camp counselors who have the proper riding experience. There’s nothing Rey loves more than taking an afternoon off and heading out onto the trails with Silver Streak, the half-Arabian mare that’s become her favorite.

They lapse into silence after that, even though Rey feels like turning around and punching him any time he gets a little too close to her.

“I really don’t get your problem with me,” he says as she picks up a shovel and starts cleaning out one of the horse’s stalls.

“Here, go clean out Bobby’s stall.” She thrusts one of the shovels at him.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

He takes a step toward her and when she steps back, she hits the wall of the stall. Ben looms over her, leaning close. “You’ll talk to me eventually.”

“I doubt it,” she says and she _hates_ the way her voice sounds all breathy. Rose is wrong. Of course she is. She’s not attracted to Ben. There’s no way. He’s too tall and has ridiculous ears and he’s a complete and utter asshole.

An asshole with really too pretty eyes and a mouth that she’s trying very hard not to watch as he smirks at her. “You will,” he says and then he’s gone, picking up the shovel and heaving it over his shoulder as he saunters to the next stall.

* * *

“Line up!” she calls out. She’s surrounded by thirty or more girls, ages 10 to 13. They’re a rowdy bunch, chattering loudly. It’s _their day_. The day they get to go on a hike and spend the night in a clearing up in the woods. The expressions on the girls’ faces range from excited to nervous to terrified. One small camper, just barely 10 years old, is shivering off to the side, gripping her backpack tightly, eyes wide as she watches everyone else.

Rey plans to keep a close eye on her as they make the trek. There’s always one who finds the whole experience a little rattling at first. But usually by the end of it they’re having a great time, their fear of the dark woods forgotten.

“Alright, girls!”

There’s a commotion off to the left and she turns to find _him_ there.

“Ben Solo, what are you doing?”

He stands at the head of a group of boys, hand on his hip, smirk on his face. “It seems they’re calling for rain tomorrow. So guess what?”

“No.” Her voice is flat. She won’t betray a thing, not in front of all these kids.

“Tough luck. It’s already been approved.”

“Is your uncle trying to kill me?”

He’s grinning now, eyes crinkling up at the corner, smile showing some of his still uneven teeth. She wishes that weren’t so damned disarming. She hates that he’s somehow grown into his features. The nose and lips that seemed too big for his narrow face now seem to suit him. His face is _interesting_. And she supposes that’s a dangerous road to be letting her mind wander down.

“Maybe,” he mutters. “Or maybe he knows I’m secretly madly in love with you and keeps trying to throw us together in order to make you realize you return my feelings.”

She stares at him for a moment. He looks _serious_ and her eyes start to widen when the whole effect is ruined by another damned smirk.

“Had you there for a moment, didn’t I?”

She steps closer to him and crooks a finger at the ridiculously tall bastard. When he leans down close to her she goes up on tiptoe and whispers in his ear. “Fuck you, Solo.” She walks off to the sound of his laughter and the applause of her girls.

This is going to be pretty much the worst camping trip ever.

* * *

It is officially the worst camping trip Rey has ever gone on. The hike up is ok. She has her girls to occupy herself and she’s able to wrangle a few of the boys back to the trail when they want to explore. Ben brings up the rear, making sure any stragglers are keeping up with them, even picking up one smaller boy and putting him up on his shoulders for some of the trip.

_Show-off_

She’s not so sure he could have done all of that the last time she saw him, and she notices him watching her as he does it, still with that ridiculously smug grin on his face.

They eat their dinners on their opposite sides of the clearing, swapping stories, goofing off, the girls racing around playing games of tag.

But then night falls and both groups gather around the campfire to toast marshmallows.

And that’s when it all starts to go to hell. Ben suggests they tell ghost stories. Rey knows all the usuals, fairly mild stories that the girls giggle over and the boys tell her aren’t really that scary. It’s not like she _wants_ to scare them

“Now who wants a _real_ scary story?” Ben asks and the boys cheer. Of course they do. The girls huddle together and exchange quick looks.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Rey says.

“We say it is,” Ben says and the boys roar their approval.

Rey rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Girls, anyone who doesn’t want to hear this _real_ scary story, can head to our side of the clearing and hunker down. There’s no reason to be scared if you don’t want to. No one will fault you for heading to bed.”

Several of the girls head off to make camp, throwing glances over their shoulders at the ones who choose to stay.

Rey really should have gone with them. But she can’t abandon the rest of her girls. And so she sits.

And regrets it.

Ben’s tale beings innocently enough, with a group of campers hiking in the forest to spend the night in a clearing much like the one they’re in. That, she realizes, is the beauty and the horror of it. He weaves his tale around their current experience. A dark night, a lightning storm that causes them to have to race their way back through the wind and rain, and flashes of a serial killer who starts picking them off one by one as they make their way down the trail back to their cabins.

Some make it out alive.

Others don’t.

It’s vivid and horrifying in its simplicity and she watches as her girls shiver in the cooling night air. When they finally make their way back to their side of the clearing to sleep, several of them are huddling close to each other and giving the woods that surround them a wide berth. They won’t go to the port-a-potty except in groups.

“If they have nightmares, this is all your fault,” Rey says to Ben before she leaves with them.

Ben just shrugs.

* * *

It’s the middle of the night when it gets _bad_.

“Rey,” someone says and her eyes open to see Ben leaning over her. She lets out a yelp at his sudden nearness. “Rey we have to go.”

She has no idea what he means until a flash of lightning illuminates his face. She’s not sure if he looks worried or downright _evil_ in that one flash of light. A boom of thunder causes one of her girls to wake up with a scream.

“We need to get back to camp.”

“It’s at least a half hour hike,” Rey points out.

“Not if we run.”

“It’s dark.”

“I’m aware of that. But it’s dangerous up here…”

“They weren’t calling for a storm.” She knows it’s ridiculous to even state that. Storms crop up suddenly and they’re all too aware of the dangers. She turns away from him and helps some of the girls roll up their packs quickly.

“I don’t wanna go into the woods,” one girl wails.

“What if the killer is out there?”

And it’s all just way too damned close to the story Ben told. “There is no killer,” Rey says. “Come on. We need to get off this hillside before this thing hits.”

At least a few of the girls are crying as they hold their lanterns high and rush back into the woods. It’s as orderly as it can be, but with the wind picking up and the trees moving in the light from many lanterns, there are strange shadows. She even hears one of the boys shout something incoherent, and there’s clear fear in his voice.

She wants to murder Ben Solo in his sleep for this. And she will, she swears, if things get much worse.

Another flash of lightning.

Another crack of thunder.

She feels the first drops hit her head and pushes the girls to move faster.

“Come on!” she shouts at them. “Keep moving, don’t slow down.” In the bouncing lights of the lanterns, she sees them all pick up the pace just a little bit.

And then the sky opens up.

The rain comes down hard and fast. One moment there are a couple sprinkles. The next Rey can barely see two feet in front of her. One of the girls lets out a blood curdling scream and Rey tries to turn in her direction.

“It’s him!” someone shouts.

“He’s going to get us all!” another responds with.

More screams.

“There’s nothing there!” Rey shouts as she draws up short. Nothing but…she sees something out of the corner of her eye, a flash of something in the woods just beyond the trail. She stares, tries to make it out. Is it one of the campers? Some sort of wildlife hiding out from the storm? They didn’t have the time to count the campers, and they can’t see far enough to keep a close eye on them. All they can do is keep everyone moving and hope that they’ll follow one another down the path. If they lose someone…

If they lose a camper, they’ll never be able to come back. The camp might even be sued, closed, and then where would she be?

She’s still watching the woods off to the side. She’s almost sure she sees _something_. A flash of metal, and all she can see is the killer in Ben’s tale, hand held high, axe at the ready. Fear bubbles up deep inside her.

And then something grabs her around the waist.

She screams.

The kids nearby turn to see what the commotion is.

A streak of lightning goes from cloud to cloud above them, thunder echoing through the woods, and she sees a face, far too close. She almost screams again when someone clamps a hand over her mouth and hauls her back against them.

And then there’s a laugh, a _familiar_ laugh. A shiver goes down her spine. “You’re not afraid of the woods, are you?”

She pushes away from him. “Ben!” she hisses at him.

“At your service, madam,” he says and she swears she can see him bow in the darkness.

“This is all your fault.”

“My fault? How is it my fault?”

“Because it is!”

“It’s a freak storm!” The wind picks up and she almost can’t make out the words over it.

“Because…because…”

Another clap of thunder.

Another scream.

Another shout about the serial killer.

“Because of _that_.”

She tries to push away from him, but he wraps his arms a little tighter around her. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“We’ll be _safe_ when we’re back in our cabins.” He leans down a little closer to her. “Our _own_ cabins,” she bites out. He steps back then and turns away.

He mutters something she can’t understand, but it sounds suspiciously like she’s _hurt_ him, wounded his pride in some way. “Come on,” he finally says. “Let’s get these kids back.”

And then he’s gone, leading the way back down the trail with his lantern held high. She hears him shout to one of the kids who lets out a scream that the whole story was fake and he promises they’ll all be safe if they just stay calm.

It works.

She has no idea _why_ or _how_ , but the kids all settle a bit. There are still fearful whispers back and forth, kids shivering in the wind and rain, but no one screams, and she nears no more shouts about serial killers.

The rest of the trip down is uneventful. She’s thankful for that much at least.

She ushers her girls into their cabin, and sees to it that towels are pulled out and wet clothing changed. When they’re getting tucked back into their own beds, she goes out in search of Ben.

She finds him on the path between the boys’ and girls’ cabin areas. The rain is starting to slow, but there’s still lightning in the air. It’s not a safe place to be, she knows that much, but she has to find him before the night is out.

“Your boys all ok?” she asks as she gets close.

The lightning illuminates him for a moment. Soaked to the skin, hair lanky and dripping, he’s actually shivering a little in the wind.

“All in their cabin and accounted for.”

“Good. My girls too.” She pauses there, not sure what else to say.

“Why are you out here?” he says.

She shrugs, and realizes he probably can’t see the small motion in the dark. “For the same reason you are, I suppose.”

“Worried about me?”

She wants to throw her hands up in the air at the annoyingly arrogant tone to his voice.

“Hardly,” she responds with.

“Rey,” he says and there’s a strange note to his voice. “I’m really not the person you think I am.”

“No? Then why did you tell that bloody story to those kids? Terrifying them all?”

“Terrifying _you_?”

“Oh, please…”

“You were,” he cuts her off with, stepping closer to her. She can only see his face in brief moments of illumination from the lightning, but even that isn’t enough to allow her to see his expression. “Look, I had no idea that we were going to get hit with a freak storm and…”

“That our camping trip would so completely resemble your story?”

“Yeah. It really did, didn’t it?” He offers up a soft laugh that for some reason isn’t grating to her at that moment. “That was really something. I’ve never seen the boys so frantic before.”

It shouldn’t be funny. It _really_ shouldn’t be funny, but Rey finds herself smiling. “It was pretty terrifying getting down that trail,” she admits. “The girls are finally settling down, but I think they’re still a bit shaken.”

“It’s a good story to tell someday, right?”

Rey remembers back to her days of ghost stories and camping in the woods. Nothing ever so dramatic had happened to her, though a few scary stories had resulted in nightmares over her years from camp. “Yeah, I guess it probably will be. In the light of day, at least.”

Another flash of lightning shows her that Ben is smiling. It’s almost disconcerting, the way her pulse picks up slightly at that. “I should…” She clears her throat. “I should get back to the girls. They’ll be worried about me.”

“Yeah, sure,” he says, and she’s not sure if she’s imagining the disappointment behind the words.

She turns to leave, but is stopped when he says her name again.

“I’m sorry.” And he actually sounds contrite.

“Thank you,” she says and leaves him to make her way back to the cabin.

* * *

Her next day is her day off. Counselors don’t get too many, but they make sure every couple weeks they get some real time to themselves. Her kids are off with Rose, on some sort of nature hike to look for animal tracks and plant species. It’s something Rose loves, getting to show them a bit of the world she inhabits and adores so much. And Rey is happy to send them off with her for the day.

Which is why she’s so disappointed when Luke pulls her into his office before she can even have breakfast.

“Rey.” His voice is warm, and it’s something she’s always appreciated. When she had no one, Luke was a bit of a father figure to her, always looking out for her, always happy to see her. Almost as if she were his own kid. He had none, had never married, his entire devotion solely to the camp and the New Age religion he follows. And so she thinks she gives him a little of what he’s been missing while he gives her a _lot_ of what she has been. “How are you holding up?”

“You heard about last night?”

“Some,” he says and there’s a bit of a smile playing about his lips. “Bad trip down?”

“Your nephew told quite the story.”

Luke grimaces. “He’s most apologetic about that this morning. Some of the kids are still a bit shell-shocked from it all.” There’s one camper, her youngest girl, who absolutely refused to go back into the woods. She’s spending the day, instead, with a group doing archery and swimming, where she can be in the wide open spaces of the camp. She hopes she’ll get over it eventually.

“Yes, well, I’ll clean up his mess. As always.” Luke just gives her a knowing look. “But you didn’t come over to talk to me about your nephew, did you?”

“Actually, I did.”

“Great,” she mumbles, and she knows Luke can hear the sarcasm in her voice.

“Look, one of our counselors is pretty sick with some nasty bug. Leia is staying with her girls in the cabin for a couple nights…”

“But?”

“Yeah…but…she needs to do the administrative stuff during the day. I have them with Jess this morning doing some arts and crafts. But this afternoon they were supposed to get out in the canoes.”

Rey feels her stomach drop. She knows where this is going. _The water_. The one bane of her existence. She’s done only a little bit of swimming, never been in a canoe. Frankly, she’s a little nervous of the water. She’d grown up mostly in a desert area before being brought to the lush northeast with all its forests and mountains and water. And so she’s managed to shy away from it as best she can.

She _can_ swim.

But she _hates_ swimming.

“I know nothing about canoes,” she says quickly. “There has to be someone else.”

“You’re the only one with the day off. We’ll pay you extra, of course, for essentially ‘coming in’ on your day off.”

She sighs.

“There’s more,” Luke goes on with.

“Of course there is.”

“My nephew has volunteered to teach you.”

“I don’t need a teacher!” Luke just gives her one of _those_ looks, exasperatingly calm, one eyebrow raised. “Ok maybe I do.”

“I know you two don’t get along.”

“To say the least.”

“But he has the morning free and he’s offered, so…we can, of course, find something else for them to do if you really are too nervous of it, but…” And here he shrugs.

Because he knows he has her. Rey is not one to back down from a fight. Or a teacher, as it were. She’s not one to let something so little as a bit of _fear_ stop her from doing something she really wants. And she’s certainly not someone to let Ben Solo get in her way.

“Fine,” she bites out.

“Wonderful! Ben is down at the docks waiting for you.”

She just stares at him and he offers up a shrug.

“I’ve known you a long time, Rey,” he points out.

“Right,” she mutters.

Well, this day is certainly not shaping up to be what she was hoping for.

* * *

She finds him sitting on the dock, feet lazily making patterns in the air above the water.

And he’s shirtless.

Shoeless too, and she’s not sure why seeing his naked feet is so weird. When she steps up, he turns toward her and grins. “Uncle Luke said you’d come.”

“Can you…I don’t know…” She waves a hand at him. “Put a shirt on or something?”

“We’re going into the water,” he points out. “A bathing suit seemed appropriate.”

“Yes…but…”

He stands then and she gets the full effect of his long, muscled body. She remembers seeing him occasionally shirtless when she was a camper. He’d been lanky then, too tall and too thin for his frame. He’s grown into that frame, putting enough lean muscle onto it that she has to force her eyes to look away from him. _Especially_ from that one tiny bit of hair that she sees just below his belly button, the one that disappears beneath the edge of his swimming trunks.

And then he grins.

And Rey glares.

This is _not_ going the way she thought it would. “Fine,” she mutters, and reaches down to pull her top off.

“What are you doing?” He rushes forward, coming just a couple feet away from her, hands thrown out.

She finishes tossing the shirt aside and shucks her pants and shoes before she can think better of it. And then she looks at him. And _oh_ is she ever so glad she picked out that string bikini. She hadn’t actually planned on wearing it without a shirt over it. But here, now, with Ben watching her and the color high on his cheeks. Definitely a good, solid choice.

Grinning, she takes a step toward the shoreline, trying _not_ to think about being out on the water with only Ben and his too fucking large chest for company. She also tries not to think too hard about how they’re going to be in a little boat on a huge expanse of water that could end her with a wrong move. Why _did_ people like the water anyway?

“Is that really appropriate to wear?” Ben gets out as she steps past him and she turns back to see his eyes quickly moving away from her ass.

“It’s just us.”

“Yes, but…”

“What? Can’t handle a bathing suit? _I_ thought it was appropriate considering we’re going to be on the water.”

“Touché,” he mutters.

“Alright, _teacher_ , show me.” She waves toward the canoe that’s sitting on the shore, the water lapping lazily at its side.

“Well, at least you admit you don’t know something,” she hears him mutter as he releases the knot that ties the small canoe to the dock.

She lets that one go. This time at least. She’s far too focused on the tiny canoe, walking toward it and eying the thing rather apprehensively. It’s tiny, _too_ tiny really. She wonders how he’s even going to get into it, curious to see how someone so large could actually fit into such a thing.

But he doesn’t get into it. Not exactly at least. He stands over it, feet still on the ground beneath him and then settles himself on the very edge. On it, but not _in_ it.

“I think you need to actually get in it for it to work,” she points out.

He heaves a rather over-dramatic sigh. “Who’s the teacher again?”

“Fine.”

“Just trust me, ok?”

She stands on the shore with her arms crossed over her chest. She _doesn’t_ trust. Not him, not _many_ really. She trusts Rose, because she’s had her back for as long as she’s known her. She trusts Luke, because he cared when no one else did. Ben? He’s a different story. It’s not that she doesn’t want to trust him, but there are a _lot_ of years there of antagonism to get through before she could do that.

“Fine,” she says again.

“I’m going to hold it steady. I want you to crawl in and sit down facing me.”

“Facing you?” It’s not like she has a lot of experience with canoes, but she’s certainly seen enough of it over the years. Two kids, facing in the same direction. Sometimes only one has a set of oars, sometimes they each have one and paddle opposite each other, sometimes _both_ have had a set of oars, like Ben has the canoe set up now. But she’s not seen them facing each other.

“How are you going to learn if you can’t watch me? Osmosis?” 

She stares at him for a long moment. “Ok.”

“Good. So get in.” He nods toward the boat.

“Ok,” she says again. But she doesn’t move. Not right away. And there must have be something in her voice or the look on her face because he sighs again. “Still no trust,” he murmurs. “Look, I’ve got this. I’ve got _you_. Even if you somehow fell in, the water is no more than a few feet at most. You’ll be fine.”

She really _really_ hates that he seems to be able to read her like a damned book. Closing her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, she does as he asks. And he’s right. The boat barely rocks when she gets in. He has it firmly lodged between those overly muscular thighs of his.

When she sits down, she reaches for the oars automatically.

“No,” he says quickly. “Don’t grab those yet. Just sit there and hold onto the sides. Steady yourself.” He rocks the boat slightly and she lunges for the sides. “You can’t do that every time the boat rocks. It’s _going_ to rock. It’s on water.” He leans forward slightly, eyes intent on her. “Take a deep breath. Rest your hands on the side and _balance_ yourself.”

She tries to do as he asks and he moves the boat again. Her hands grip the edges tightly, but as he slowly rocks it back and forth, just a little each way, she starts to feel the rhythm of it. Her hands release their death grip and she’s starting to relax when he shifts forward.

Her eyes open and she sees him climb in as he shoves the boat away from the shore. She grips the edges a little harder.

And then they’re out on open water.

Ok, not _open_ water exactly. They’re only a handful of feet from the shore.

She takes a deep breath.

“ _Now_ you take the oars. Don’t try rowing until everyone is in and situated and ready to go. If you’re going to take the girls out, you’re going to be the one in charge.”

“Right.” She picks up the oars and he grabs his as well. 

“Lift them up.”

“Out of the water?”

“For now. I’m going to show you the proper motion.” He does something quickly, using just one oar, that turns them completely around. She takes a deep breath as she looks out onto the lake, the shore somewhere behind her.

“What are you doing?”

“Look, this whole set-up is a little odd,” he admits. “They’ve adapted their canoes to essentially be two-person rowboats. The kids can take turns or can row together, whatever works best for them. So we’re not _canoeing_ so much as _rowing_ these things.”

She nods at that, start to open her mouth to ask a question.

He smirks. “When you row a boat, you sit facing away from the direction you’re moving in.”

“That’s weird.”

He shrugs. “It works better for the human body. Now watch what I do.” And he sets to it, moving the oars smoothly through the water, long powerful strokes that take them quite a ways out onto the lake in just a handful of strokes.

She tries to watch as carefully as she can, but if she’s going to be totally honest with herself, she might just be a little too distracted by the muscles of his pale chest, and the way they move as he uses the oars. Most of her boyfriends (ok, _two_ , a grand total of _two_ boyfriends) have been skinny kids and she’s always thought she preferred that. But _fuck_ , if she doesn’t enjoy watching his body.

“You got it?” he asks as he stops.

And she realizes she didn’t even know they’d stopped. She really needs to smack Rose upside the head for pointing out how hot Ben had gotten over the years. He still might be the bane of her existence, but there’s more than a tiny part of her that keeps feeling drawn to the bastard.

“Yeah, sorry,” she says quickly. “I think so.” He makes a gesture with one hand, punctuated by the movement of the oar, before bringing both oars out of the water.

“Ok,” she says, dropping her oars into the water. “I can do this.”

“Slow and steady,” he says. “We’re in no great rush.”

“ _You_ aren’t,” she mutters under her breath. She tries to imitate what he was doing, the smooth motion of his arms. She’s strong too, spending a lot of her spare time hiking and riding the horses. And so she’s able to pull them without too much difficulty.

The boat starts to head back toward shore.

“Wait, stop!” he says and when she does, looking up to meet his eyes, he looks slightly embarrassed. “Right…” He maneuvers the boat so she’s once again facing the shore. She’s amazed at just how far they’ve moved away from it already.

“We’re rowing in opposite directions,” she realizes. “Well, that was…”

“Stupid, yeah.”

There’s a strange moment of camaraderie between them, and then she puts the oars into the water and pulls at them. It’s awkward at first, but in little time, she has a motion down that is at least moving them further away from the shore, even if it’s not moving them quite as evenly as Ben’s

“Good!” he says and she can’t help but smile. He dips his oars in and follows her motion, opposite and yet in sync with her. He has to slow down his large strokes a little to match hers. Her arms are shorter and she’s less sure of herself, but he manages to keep pace with her as if he were born doing it.

They row in companionable silence for quite some time. Rey actually feels _calm_ out there on the water, and that surprises her. They’re far out into the lake, much further from shore than she’s ever been, and she knows it must be deep out there. And yet for some reason she doesn’t care. It’s a strangely freeing feeling, and so she leans back a little, face tilted up toward the mid-morning son, and pulls at the oars a little harder.

Her arms are going to be tired the next day.

She doesn’t really care.

She hears Ben laugh. “What?” she asks, and the word is somehow grumpy and yet strangely affectionate at the same time.

“Well, look at who just realized being out on the water is actually _fun_.”

She makes an annoyed noise in the back of her throat.

“Oh come on,” he goes on with. “Just admit you’re enjoying this. I’m not so bad when you get down to it, right?”

“I guess,” she mutters.

He laughs again “Sometimes talking to you is like pulling teeth.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“No?”

“No.”

“I’ve been trying to talk to you all summer.”

Rey blinks once, twice, her mouth opens but nothing really comes out for a moment. Then – “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Look, I was a shit to you. Back then, you know?” His face turns a little red and Rey is really not sure what on earth she’s witnessing here. He’s not lying, Of course he’s not. He had been awful to her, teasing her mercilessly, calling her _scavenger_ and getting into her stash of hoarded food when she wasn’t looking. She’d come back to find a few granola bars gone and see Ben grin at her from across the camp when she’d come storming out.

“Really? I never noticed.”

“See, this is what I’m talking about. You deflect everything I try to say.”

“What _are_ you trying to say anyway?” She throws her hands up in the air and the oars start to slip toward the water. She lunges forward to grab them and the boat tilts a little precariously.

“Stop!” he shouts.

Rey tries to rebalance herself and it takes a moment, but the boat does finally settle down. “Sorry,” she mutters.

“Don’t _do_ that.”

“Right.”

He just shakes his head and takes up his oars again.

She follows suit, and they fall into silence. Maybe not a companionable one this time. He’s still watching her with half-narrowed eyes and occasionally heaving a sigh of exasperation.

A few more minutes pass before he speaks again. “I was trying to apologize.” The words are spoken softly and Rey almost has to lean forward to hear them.

“Apologize?’

“Yeah, you know, that thing where I admit I was a shit to you and you didn’t deserve it?” He looks contrite, actually _contrite_. Like maybe he actually means it.

“You…”

“I mean it, Rey. I was a terrible kid. I had a lot of things going on…”

“Family things?” He nods to that. “I used to be so envious,” she admits. “And so mad at you. You had this great uncle who cared for you, and a mother I would have killed to have called my own. You had all these people who loved you. And none of it ever mattered to you. You threw them all away as soon as you can.” She takes a deep breath, steadies herself, levels her eyes on him. “You know who I had? No one.”

“You had my uncle.”

She shrugs. “One of his charity cases.”

Ben shook his head. “He tried to adopt you, you know?”

Her hands grip the oars a little harder. “What? No…”

“He did. Scouts honor.”

“That doesn’t actually mean much, you know. Considering you weren’t a scout and all.” The words come out flippant, like her heart isn’t beating a hundred beats a minute and her thoughts aren’t whirling madly in her head.

“Ok, that’s true. But I promise you. He wanted to. He tried to. It used to piss me off so bad.”

“What? Why?” _He can’t be telling the truth…_

“I thought he cared about you more than me.”

“Never.”

“He did though, still does. You were like the kid he never had. But the system…” Ben offers a small shrug here. “I don’t think they ever considered him good enough.”

“And Unkar Plutt was?”

“He was just a foster home.”

Rey stares at him as they both fall quiet. She considers herself a pretty good judge of character, usually able to at least figure out if someone is completely making things up. But Ben, he’s watching her with a serious look on his long face. And she doesn’t even know what to think of it all.

“You’re serious.” He nods. “Luke…your uncle….Luke Skywalker. He actually wanted to adopt… _me_?” Her voice is small and breaks on the last syllable.

He nods at that.

She sets the oars down, letting them slide into their holders.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to hug you, Ben Solo.”

“No…” he starts to say, putting his hands up to try to block her.

“I know you’re not all touchy feely,” she says. “But sorry, this time you get the _hug_.”

“No, Rey, that’s not…”

And then she shifts forward, first to her knees and then pushing off until she’s able to wrap her arms around him. He drops the oars he was holding to grab onto her and for a moment, just one moment, everything seems _perfect_. He smells like fresh air and his bare skin is warm beneath her hands. It feels… _good_.

But then he’s trying to shift back, trying to push her away and she hugs him tighter. “Thank you,” she says to him, just moments before she feels the world shift beneath her.

No, it’s not the world, not some big seismic shift in her emotions or anything quite so grand.

It’s the boat.

It tips to her left, and she feels Ben try to compensate, moving them back to her right a bit. She finally lets go of him and tries to sit back down, but it’s too late. The boat continues to rock wildly, tipping to the left and then the right once more. For one moment, just one shining moment, everything seems still and calm as it hangs there, half turned on its side.

And then she’s plunged into the water. She lets out a squeal at the same time she hears Ben curse. She comes up quickly, tries to grab onto the boat, but it’s floated a few feet away from her.

_Remember your lessons_.

_Don’t over-exert yourself._

_Don’t get frantic._

_Tread water carefully or float to your back and stay there_.

She does the latter, coming to rest on her back on the water, floating there like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

_We’re gonna die_.

“We’re not going to die,” Ben says.  She looks over at him, where he treads water a few feet away from her. “Yes, you said that out loud.”

“Oh.”

“We’re…look, can you swim at all? We’re not that far from that little island there and if you can get there, I can get the canoe righted and we can head back.”

“I…”

“You _can_ swim, right?”

“Sort of…”

“But…”

“Ok,” she finally says and flips over. She knows her strokes. She was a camper after all. It’s just that she _hates_ swimming. She loves the water, loves wading in it, but swimming for swimming’s sake is not something she enjoys. And so her strokes are sloppy at best. They’ll do the trick, but it won’t be pretty.

At least Ben is right about the distance. The shore of the small island in the middle of the lake is no more than a few hundred feet at most, and so she’s able to aim herself for it and just go. Maybe with a bit more splashing around than she’d like, but still she gets there without too much difficulty.

She’s catching her breath as she watches Ben make his way to the shore. She should feel bad about it all. She _does_ feel bad about it all, really. They wouldn’t be in this predicament if she hadn’t done something so stupid. He’s struggling to swim and drag along the boat with him. When he gets close, she races into the shallow water to help him tug the boat up onto the sand.

He stumbles onto the shore and flops down onto the sand, a little out of breath.

She lays down next to him, probably a bit closer than she had meant to. But there they are. She turns her head to watch the way the beads of water make trails down his skin.

He says nothing, just takes in a few deep breaths, eyes closed, and she watches him in profile. The high forehead, the long nose. His normally lustrous hair is slicked back from being wet and she finds she likes the shape of his face, the length of his neck, even the ears he tries too hard to hide.

“You’re staring,” he grumbles, and she watches as color traces its way up his cheeks.

She feels her own heat when he turns dark eyes on her. “Yes…well…” She clears her throat. “Was he really going to…you know?”

“Adopt you? Yeah. He tried.” Here his mouth turns a little down at the corners. “He fought a lot harder for you than he ever did for me.”

“I’m sorry.”

He watches her for a moment more before shaking his head once and coming to rest on the sand again, eyes trained on the sky. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

“Still…”

“It’s not.”

“Hmm…”

She moves then, sliding a little closer and coming to rest on her elbow slightly above him. He turns his head halfway toward her and meets her eyes. He looks almost sleepy there, watching her beneath his eyelids. “What?” The word is clipped, but there’s no bite behind it.

“There’s more you’re not telling me,” she surmises. His face turns a surprising shade of red. “Oh, there _is_!” She can’t help the bit of excitement that creeps into her voice.

He looks away from her again and she’s left feeling even more like there’s just _something_ here that he’s not telling her, that he doesn’t _want_ to tell her.  Something just out of reach, that she’s sure she could figure out if she just had the time to analyze it.

When he speaks again, the words are soft. “Perhaps we should get back.”

“Ben…”

“They’ll be expecting us…”

“ _Ben_.”

“Fine. I was just thinking how awkward it would have been.” That sounds more like the Ben she knows, words exploding out of him in a burst of energy.

“What would have been?”

“If he had…you’d technically be my cousin.”

She scrunches up her nose as she studies him. “Why would that…” she starts to say, when he sits up. She pushes away from the sudden movement, rolling over toward her back before sitting up as well.

When she turns to look back at him, he’s staring at her and there’s a strange light in his eyes. “Rey?” Her name sounds strangely soft on his lips.

“Yeah?”

He’s leaning closer to her and for some reason her eyes trail down the planes of his face to his lips. _Don’t go there, Rey_ …but they’re really quite lovely lips, plush and soft. She can’t quite look away as his tongue comes out to moisten them.

“Would it…” He clears his throat. “Would it be really weird if I kissed you?”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Um, maybe…” she starts to say.

He curses under his breath. “Fuck, what was I thinking? Of course it would be. Dammit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He starts to get up and she reaches out a hand to touch his shoulder.

“Wait…” He stops, settles back onto the sand and stares at her as she gets to her knees and scoots a bit closer to him. “It would be weird, I think? But…not unwelcome?” There’s a small, hesitant lilt at the end of her words. She has no idea what she’s doing here, no idea what he is doing or what _they_ are considering doing. They’re across the lake from anyone who could interfere. It’s a world unto itself on this tiny speck of an island. And they’re considering crossing a line that she’s never even contemplated crossing before.

“Are you sure?”

She nods.

“Because if you’re not sure…”

He can’t get another word out because Rey decides that if they’re going to _do_ this, then maybe she should just, you know, _do it_. And so she surges forward, and wraps her arms around his neck. Their lips are just a few inches apart,and she can feel his breath fanning out across her face.

“So are you going to do it?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he responds with. He hesitates for just a moment before closing his eyes and leaning forward.

The first brush of his lips against hers is soft, soft and far sweeter than she might have otherwise imagined. Ben Solo is massive, strong and tall with giant hands. She somehow expected him to be larger than life when it came to _this_ as well. But he’s not. His lips glide over hers, soft and slow and sweet, and when she parts her lips, his tongue is just as soft and sweet.

She doesn’t stop the moan that tongue elicits as he deepens the kiss. There’s no one there to hide it from.

Her hands come up to tangle in his damp hair.

His hands come up to cradle her jaw.

She ends up straddling his lap, and when they break away, she realizes just how little clothing there is between them. His swim trunks hide little and she’s pretty sure the string bikini Rose had talked her into wearing doesn’t either. She can feel the dampness between her thighs as she settles a little lower, grinding on the hardness she finds there.

When she rests her head against his, they take a moment to breathe together. “Wow,” she finally manages to get out. “That was _not_ where I thought today would go.”

He actually smiles at that. “No?”

“No.” She returns his smile.

“It’s where I hoped it would,” he admits. When one of her eyebrows raise, he laughs, a little lighter, a little freer than usual. “Well, maybe not half-drowned in the middle of the lake.”

“I’m not sorry I tipped the canoe,” Rey says softly. He leans up a little and kisses her again, just a brushing of his lips against hers.

“Good.”

She wraps her arms around him, letting him hold her for a moment, enjoying the feel of his skin against hers and wondering where this all might go in the future. Her and Ben Solo? Really? She supposes it makes sense. They’ve known each other for what feels like a hundred years, growing up at the camp together every summer.

Ben knows her better than anyone.

It’s a fact she’s ignored all these years. He’s seen her at her worst, dirty and scared and never sure when her next meal might come. And he’s seen her at her best, riding the horse with a confidence that a natural horsewoman has.

So why not Ben? Why _couldn’t_ she trust him?

“Come on,” he says. “If we don’t head back soon, they’re probably going to send a rescue party for us.”

With a reluctant sigh Rey, climbs off of him, holding out her hand to him as she stands. “Afraid you might murder me when no one is around?”

He makes a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. “Hardly. They’re probably afraid for my life by now.” He sets to flipping the canoe back over, righting the oars in their holders.

“Yours?” she exclaims on a gasp. “Everyone knows you’re the one who torments me.”

“Everyone, huh?” He straddles the canoe like he did the last time, and then turns to look at her. He’s _smirking_ , the bastard. “Talk about me a lot, do you?”

“Argh!” She throws her hands up in the air.

He laughs then and it’s soft, a strangely pleasant sound. He’s teasing her and she wonders when their arguments changed from actual _fights_ to flirtatious teasing. “Come on, you know the drill now, don’t you?”

She’s more confident this time, settling herself in quickly and picking up the oars. Ben pushes off and sits down, oars raised in one smooth motion. They flip spots this time, Ben rowing them back toward the shore and Rey taking up the more awkward forward motion.

“Try not to knock us out this time,” Ben says.

Rey is about to fight back, but when she meets his eyes, there’s mirth dancing in them. One side of his mouth is quirked up and she really would very much like to kiss him again. Instead, she smiles back. “I’ll do my best.”

They row for a couple more minutes in silence, and then Ben lifts his oars again. It takes Rey a moment to catch up, finally stopping her own rowing and allowing the boat to drift while they stare at each other for a moment.

She doesn’t say anything. She has a sense, oddly enough, that this is his moment. There’s a softness to his eyes as he watches her, and he finally takes a deep breath. “I’d like to take you out,” he says, closes his mouth, pinched together for just a moment before going on. “When we get back. If you’d like…”

She’s quiet as she studies him, watching a bit of red trace its way up his cheekbones. “Yes,” she finally says. “Yes I think I’d like that.”

He nods once and then puts his oars back into the water. Rey follows suit and they make their way back to shore in a companionable silence. She has no idea where this is going to lead, no idea how everyone is going to react.

But for some reason it just feels right.


End file.
